


October 2019 Giveaway Pieces

by maledimiele



Series: Giveaway Pieces [1]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Help, How Do I Tag, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-12-29 03:21:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21132296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maledimiele/pseuds/maledimiele
Summary: Pieces for the winners of the October 2019 giveaway I hosted on Tumblr!- Chapter 1-2: 1st place (a personalized x reader fic, 2000+ words, with any character of their choice) went to @lesterism, with his choice of Dwight Fairfield, fluff- Chapter 3: 2nd place (a personalized x reader fic, 1000+ words, with any character of their choice) went to @birbthethird, with his choice of David King, angst, and semi-unrequited love with a happy ending- Chapter 4: 3rd place (personalized, x reader headcanons with 2 characters) went to @eeveelinktions, with their choice of Dwight Fairfield and Quentin Smith!





	1. First place / Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: "I'd die for some fluff with Dwight Fairfield, he's just a BABY, as for plot how about him and I like developing feelings n then a real soft moment when we admit it (bonus points if I sacrifice myself for him uwu)"
> 
> Written for @lesterism, on Tumblr!

Jamie sat with his back resting against an upturned tree, his fingers flicking through the old journal that was laid out in his lap as his eyes skimmed the pages, hungry for any information they provided. It’s become a routine for him at this point, ever since being pulled into whatever nightmare-ish world this was; time in between trials was spent thumbing through the old journal that a missing Survivor left behind, the air around him thick with the ever-present heaviness that the presence of the Entity left behind, the voices of the other Survivors floating in one ear and out the other as they argued or talked about this-and-that. Not many of the other Survivors interrupted him when he was doing his own thing, and he was more than alright with that - conversation wasn’t his forte, and interaction with others often took more from him than he had to give. 

Still relatively new around, Jamie’d taken up the habit of trying to figure out any information about the realm that he could - either through what others knew, or from the journal that was typically kept in the hollow of one of the logs that surrounded the campfire. The journal, penned by some guy named _ Benedict_, was the most hearty source of any sort of information around, and Jamie’s own interest in reading and literature paired wonderfully with the fact. 

Though he was content with relying on the journal to tell him what he wanted to know, eventually he'd have a _question_ and it would be one that wasn’t answered in the book, and that was when he'd realize that he needed to actually _ ask _ someone about it. It eventually wasn’t too much of a problem approaching most of the others - they were all stuck in this nightmare as well, and were probably more than happy to help a newcomer - but the way some of them _ responded _ to him was. Most, actually all, were kind about his inquiries, but one of them had a particular way of responding to his questions that caught his attention. 

Dwight.

It actually wasn’t even just _ him _ that Dwight responded to awkwardly, no - it was pretty much _everything_. Dwight was, very obviously, an absolute ball of nerves. He couldn’t sit still, he had a terrible habit of biting his nails, and a bad reputation for being one of the first to flee through the gates once possible - if not _ the _ first. 

Dwight was one of the least confident people Jamie had _ ever _ encountered in his life, to put it incredibly lightly. He, apparently, never attracted much attention, from what Jamie had heard, and what little attention he _ did _ attract was typically that of a negative nature, especially now, since he ended up here. From what little conversation the two of them had, Dwight mentioned how he always _ wanted _ to be one of the cooler, more liked guys - but he just _ never had the charisma. _ Despite his best efforts at getting into a good spot, like trying out for the football team and attempting to join various clubs in high school, he never made it very far and more often than not ended up, sometimes quite literally, on his ass with nothing more than a scoff and a disinterested look thrown his way. 

There was absolutely _ nothing _ about Dwight that was particularly interesting in the slightest, and that’s why Jamie couldn’t figure out why it felt like his heart was about to leap straight out of his chest every time his eyes fell upon Dwight’s, or why his face felt flushed with heat and his voice felt caught in his throat every time he tried to speak to, or in front of, Dwight. _ Nothing _about the scrawny, bespectacled young man was remarkable in the slightest, but Jamie’s thoughts seemed to prefer keeping their focus on him.

Though Jamie always questioned why, it didn't actually _matter_ why because regardless of why he was so fixated on Dwight, one thing that was most likely certain was the fact that Dwight probably didn’t feel the same way, considering they barely knew each other. Even in the off chance that he _ did _reciprocate, was this place really appropriate for that sort of thing? No - probably not, Jamie always reminded himself, as a strange pang of something akin to disappointment tugged at his heart. This certainly wasn't the place for any sort of relationship.

Not like it even mattered.

✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣

Dwight’s fists clenched and unclenched in a rhythm of anxiety driven habit, his chest feeling unusually tight as he tried to calm his breathing. No amount of mental pep-talk was enough to lift his spirits, nor was any amount of distraction enough to take his mind off of the course the previous trial had taken. 

The Legion, Frank, or whatever his name was, absolutely had it _ out _ for him. Dwight had managed to knock him in the face quite hard with the door of a locker last trial, an action that immediately took Frank's contempt for the man to an entirely new level. Though Dwight _ acted _ like he had no clue what was up, Jeff, who apparently knew Frank and his group, had clued him in long ago that Frank had some sort of burning disdain for people he deemed too cowardly for their own good - and out of everyone, Dwight fit that description damn near perfectly. That, combined with how he probably busted Frank’s nose through his mask last trial, left Dwight assuming that Frank was probably absolutely seething and wouldn’t hesitate to rip him apart the next time he had the chance to. 

Deep in thought, Dwight didn’t even realize that he was biting his nails until he felt the sharp sting of pain shoot down his finger - he’d bitten his nails right down to the nub, again. It was a disgusting habit he’d had since childhood, one he just couldn’t stop no matter how hard he tried to. Any sort of anxiety or restless energy triggered a wide array of habits in him; nail biting probably being his _worst_, and it kinda killed what little self confidence he had. He’d read about it in _Men’s Weekly_ awhile ago, one of those cheap magazines aimed at older teen boys and young men that offered articles on interview tips and advice for how to get the attention of that _special_ someone. An article focused on the latter mentioned how the health and appearance of something as simple as your _hands_ played a big role in the dating world, and keeping them looking nice and groomed was important because _w__ho wanted a scrub with scarred, nubby hands? _

_\- No one!_ _No one’s going to be into you, Dwight! At least not when you can’t knock a habit most 7 year olds can! _He scoffed silently at himself, pulling himself from his thoughts and trying to regain himself as he had zoned out. 

Oh, shit - he’d zoned out. 

And he’d zoned out, staring right at someone. 

Said _ someone _ was the most recent poor soul to be dragged into this whole mess; someone whose name he didn’t even know and probably never would get to. A young guy, probably no older than Dwight, but probably more put together than he could ever even _ hope _ to be. God, he probably thought Dwight was pathetic! They’d spoken, what, twice? Thrice? Not much - but he noticed how _ quiet _ he was whenever they spoke - almost like he was reluctant to speak to Dwight, or like he didn’t want the others to know he was interacting with him. He could practically feel the disdain radiating off of him whenever they spoke! 

_No, no - he’s new, _ Dwight reminded himself. _ He’s probably just _ scared _ and _ not interested _ in making friends. He’s probably just wanting to get out of here, he’s probably unsure of how to act towards the others, and he’s -_

\- looking right at him. 

His eyes, which were once focused intently on the journal he had laid out in his lap, were now looking into Dwight’s much more frazzled ones. It took Dwight a good second, a second much longer than he would’ve liked, for him to really realize what was going on before he could manage to pry his eyes away from the others. He found himself messing with the frames of his glasses as he sat there, shifting uncomfortably in his spot as he forced his eyes to focus on anything else instead of the other guy.

_Great, now he probably thinks I was _ actually _ staring at him. _

After what felt like an eternity passed, Dwight stole another, quick glance at the guy - just to make sure he didn’t seem visibly uncomfortable or too weirded out, as Dwight expected he would be.

What Dwight wasn’t expecting though, was for the stranger’s eyes to be focused on him this time - the tables having turned completely. One might think that unwanted eye contact caused physical pain judging by how quickly Dwight, once again, tore his eyes off of the other guy, turning his head the other way to keep his attention elsewhere.

Awkward. 

✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣

One of the arguably worst things about being more reserved of a person was that when the time came that you actually _ needed _ to work with others, it felt next to impossible to get yourself to make that step and actually interact with them, even when your life may quite literally depend on it. No amount of persuasion was ever enough to convince Jamie to open up and step outside of his comfort zone, and no amount of mental pep-talk ever made working with others easy. Conversation was never a forte of his, and seeing how it so easily came to others often left him feeling even worse about his struggle to open up in social situations seeing as he wasn’t a social person in the slightest.

Life really wasn’t fair though, and life had a habit of throwing you in for a loop you really were not prepared for.

He needed to get over his reluctance to socialize - at least a little bit - if he wanted to last more than two minutes in a trial. He’d seen how much better, how much more productive the other Survivors were when they collaborated and actually _ worked together _ instead of just going about it all willy-nilly without a plan. He saw how they acted and knew he needed to acclimate - but _ how? _Teamwork was about as foreign as French to Jamie, but that wasn’t an excuse; when you don’t know French, you get a translator or _ learn _ it, and when you don’t have a good sense of teamwork, you _ go to someone who does - _ and who better to learn from than the self-proclaimed nervous leader himself, Dwight? It’s something he’d even said with pride, to everyone’s surprise, after the events of a particularly intense trial where Dwight had somehow, by some unknown God’s grace, came out on top. 

While going to Dwight for advice _seemed_ like a good idea, actually approaching him was an entirely different story. Jamie knew that Dwight was like himself in the sense that he really wasn’t too keen on conversing, and that alone made the thought of approaching him even more daunting. Another question Jamie often asked himself when thinking about the topic was if Dwight would even _ want _ to talk to him. Some of the other Survivors here seemed to have a sort of wedge driven between them; David and another unknown Survivor, Feng and Nea - and even just considering the fact that Dwight might brush him off or hate his guts for whatever reason only made him much more reluctant to interact with the guy. 

It wouldn’t hurt to try though, would it? Regardless of how Dwight responded, it’s not like he could get away with _ never _ speaking to him again - they were kinda trapped here together, weren’t they? Worst case scenario, Dwight would say _ no_, and that’s that. 

Wouldn’t hurt to try. 

✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣

Despite being in the Nightmare for a relatively short amount of time, countless things have managed to surprise Jamie, but none were even close to being as pleasant as seeing that Dwight did not, in fact, hate his guts. He learned early on in the conversation that Dwight actually _ did _enjoy interacting with others - but he was just so incredibly used to being brushed off and ignored that his anxiety tended to get in the way and it made talking with others much harder than it needed to be. Seeing that the both of them had that in common, the rest followed suit and they fell into casual, friendly conversation within no time. 

“...and they just _ left you _ in the woods? In the _ middle of the night?” _

Jamie was currently listening to Dwight as he went on about the rather unfortunate circumstances that surrounded his arrival in the Fog, and the story was one that honestly didn’t surprise Jamie in the slightest.

“Yeah! It’s fucked up - isn’t it?! They even _ joked _ about doing it, but I didn’t take it seriously!” Dwight was _ very _ animated as he spoke, his hands gesturing in the air as he went on about the utter _ betrayal _ from his old coworkers. He was actually quite funny as he spoke, though unintentionally so; something about the way he spoke was so… geeky, and the way he worded things was just so _ Dwightish _that Jamie couldn’t help but smile. 

“It wasn’t anything new, if I’m honest,” He continued on, though notably much more serious. “That’s kind of how _ most _ of my relationships with others have gone - I’ve always kinda been the one that everyone laughs at, or takes their frustration out on. Something at work stopped working, and it was_“Oh, I think I saw Dwight using it last”, _ “_Surely Dwight knows what happened with it!”, _ even when it was something I’d never even _ touched!_” He punctuated his words with a sharp sniff as he adjusted his glasses.

“I started to learn, early on in life, that if I wanted to avoid being targeted, I had to make myself invisible - y’know? They can’t make fun of me or hurt me if they don’t even notice that I’m there. I know how to avoid being seen when I don’t want to be - I know how to _ get by_.” His eyes looked up to meet those of the other guy - whose name was _ Jamie_, he’d learned - to make sure he was actually following what he was saying. Dwight briefly wondered if Jamie actually even cared,or if he was just… entertaining Dwight for absolutely no reason. Dwight debated if perhaps the only reason Jamie was interested in his stories so he could somehow use them against him later, though that concern was quickly shoved out of his head once he realized that Jamie actually seemed pretty focused on Dwight's storytelling and was actually _responding _ to it. Having someone there to _actually listen_ to him and not just pretend that they were gave Dwight a newfound sense of confidence.

“....Especially in high school. Classmates, teachers, they all _ wanted _ to be noticed, I think, but I couldn’t be, if I wanted to make it. I’m a complete _ geek _ out in the woods, and I’m more or less blind without my glasses, but I know how to make use of what I learned in high school - and I gotta help others with it, too!” 

Jamie found himself laughing at the sheer amounts of uncharacteristic vitality Dwight had in his voice as he spoke, but it was an action he quickly regret as he saw the expression on Dwight’s face change. Dwight, unfortunately, initially took Jamie’s laughter as the kind of laughter that was _ always _ directed towards him - scornful and mocking - but as he listened to it, he noticed that it was lacking a certain... tone to it. It was the kind of laughter Dwight usually overheard in the hallways when someone said something that unintentionally came across as funny to their friends, the kind of laughter he’d heard in movies and television shows when the protagonist cracked a joke their friends weren’t expecting. It was a gentle, genuine, _ kindhearted _ laugh - a laugh that made Dwight feel frozen in his seat, his face feeling warm. 

A laugh Dwight found himself wanting to hear more of. 

Dwight cracked a smile - a crooked, unsure and shy one, but still a smile nonetheless - as he scratched at the back of his head awkwardly. “If you liked that, then how about -"

Before he could finish though, Jamie suddenly stood up from his spot on the flat rock that was laid next to the log Dwight was on. 

“Sorry but - I’ve, uh.. gotta go. Trial’s calling.” Jamie gestured loosely behind himself, towards the campfire. Dwight noticed the look of reluctance that came over Jamie’s previously content face, and he felt his heart sink as Jamie turned and began a slow walk towards the other three Survivors that were waiting for the aforementioned trial.

Dwight hoped he’d be alright.

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Out of all things Dwight never expected to come from being in the Fog, actually making a _ friend _ was probably the highest on the list - next to falling in love with someone, but who had time for that sort of thing here? 

Whenever another Survivor was looking for one of them for one reason or another, they were almost always told “Oh, I saw Jamie with Dwight, I think?”, or “Dwight and Jamie were over by the huge oak tree.” The two became practically inseparable outside of trials; they spent the majority of their free time lingering around the edge of the woods or seated by the campfire together, engaged in conversation about who knew what. They learned more about each other as time went on; Dwight talked about his dead-end jobs, his unreachable dreams, what kind of life he _ wanted _ to have if he could - and Jamie would tell Dwight about his hobbies, his love for literature and history, and something Dwight felt _ relieved _ to hear - his poor conversation skills (relieved to hear since it meant Jamie probably didn’t judge him for his terrible habit of stumbling over his own words whenever he went on a tangent, or how he tended to repeat himself - a _ lot _). 

In the early stages of their friendship, Jamie realized that if you actually paid attention then you could read Dwight pretty easily. You could tell if he was feeling nervous and antsy by how he’d mess with his glasses (particularly when he spoke about high school, and a select few of the Killers), if he was deep in thought by how he’d tap his fingers rhythmically on his thigh if he was seated, and even if he was feeling relaxed by how he sat (instead of sitting folded into himself, his right leg would be stretched out in front of him). Small mannerisms like that became more and more noticeable to Jamie as he spent more time with Dwight, and Jamie found himself… strangely interested in watching Dwight to witness him do something he _ hadn’t _ seen before.

One thing he noticed was how quiet Dwight would go if he was trying to speak and someone spoke over him. His voice wouldn’t even trail off, nor would he try to restart his sentence - he’d just go completely _ silent_, a look of irritation but nonetheless acceptance falling over his face, and Jamie found himself scolding himself mentally for not being confident enough in himself to speak up for the other guy. Dwight got discouraged pretty easily, at least when it came to conversation, and it was the sort of thing Jamie related to just a bit too much. 

“Hey, Dwight - have you ever just… called them out for interrupting you? It kinda bothered me how no one really did anything about it.” Jamie said, taking his usual spot on the ground next to Dwight. “I doubt Ash really _ meant _ to talk over you, but -” 

“No, no! They don’t _care_, Jamie. Most of them don’t _care_, they just… _talk_ over me all the time, it’s like I’m not even there to them!” He was, understandably, upset about what had happened. Dwight had been _trying_ to talk to the small group that was hanging around the campfire - an action which was a _pretty_ _big deal_ considering how hard it was for Dwight to speak up in front of others - only for Ash to cut him off, going on about something completely unrelated to what Dwight was originally on about. It was an action that stung Jamie, and made him realize just how much Dwight really was ignored around here.

“Sometimes I _ want _ to help them! I know I’m not the smartest, or the fastest, or the luckiest - but I know a thing or two! I’ve gotten them to work together instead of argue before, yet they just _ brush me off _like it’s nothing! Like _ I’m _ nothing. Sometimes I wonder if -”

Jamie waved his hand to get Dwight’s attention.

“Dwight, don’t say that. If you’re about to say what I _ think _ you’re about to - don’t.” Jamie’s sudden interject caught Dwight off guard, but it was enough to silence him for a second. “Trust me - I get it. I really do, actually. I’m _ horrible _ at conversation - sometimes I just stop talking and people forget that I’m even there. Dude, it’s literally happened so many times - one time the group I was with all made plans to leave without letting me know about it. People are _ assholes_, you know that. But please, don’t think that it has anything at all to do with you, when it’s _ them_, alright?” The tone of Jamie’s voice was one Dwight hadn’t heard from him before; it was much more lively, yet incredibly empathetic at the same time - something completely different than anything he’d heard from him before - or anyone, for that matter - and it struck an odd chord in him.

_Was that true? _Dwight thought to himself, the tips of his fingers rubbing the end of his tattered tie. _ Did Jamie, Jamie!- of all people, actually _ know _ how it felt to be talked over and ignored? He’s quiet, yeah, but… _ Something about that didn’t sit right with Dwight. Never mind the fact that it was just rude as _ hell _ to ignore someone, but something about it being _ Jamie _ who had to experience that really made Dwight feel worse about it. 

“How… How could anyone forget about _ you?" _ Dwight spoke, his voice low as he didn’t even mean to verbalize that thought. Immediately, his face went red and he cleared his throat. 

_Did I really just say that?! _

“I mean! - It’s pretty _ rude _ to ignore someone, yeah? Especially to forget that they’re even _ there _ \- it’s rude! Sucks that you had to deal with that! It’s just, it’s like - yeah, it _ sucks!” _Dwight stuttered and choked as he could barely get a coherent sentence out of his mouth. He fucked up.

_God, why did I say that?! _He tore himself apart mentally. He didn’t even _ mean _ to say that, it just… it just _ came out! _Without him meaning for it to! Jamie probably felt _ really _ weirded out by him now - and the thought of that upset him more than the fact that he spoke without thinking like he did. _ Maybe he didn’t hear me?_

Jamie, on the other hand, had his eyes glued to the ground - or more specifically Dwight’s right shoe, seeing as that’s where his eyes fell when he looked down - as he, much to Dwight’s despair, did in fact hear Dwight’s quiet comment.

_ How could anyone forget about me? Is Dwight _ actually _ upset about that? No - surely the idea of people just randomly forgetting about the presence of another person is weird, that’s all. I probably made him feel worse - made him feel guilty, or something. I totally hijacked this conversation and made it about myself. Gah.._

Even as they eventually went their separate ways - trials are, unfortunately, a very regular part of being in the Fog - Jamie couldn’t stop thinking about Dwight’s accidental comment. He thought about it more than he would’ve liked to, if he were being entirely honest; much more in depth than necessary, he gave it much more thought than most people probably would - but he didn’t care. 

He hopedDwight meant what he said. He hoped Dwight _ truly _was implying that the thought of someone simply forgetting about him was perplexing. It got him thinking about the current circumstances - did his family, his old friends, remember him? Or did everyone forget? What about Dwight and his family - wait, did he have any family? He’d never mentioned - but it didn’t really matter now, did it? They were _ here _ now, in the Nightmare. It would only matter if they ever got out - and if they _ did _ get out, what then? Would they remember each other? Would he remember Dwight? Would Dwight remember _ him _ ?  
  
He hoped so. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi on tumblr @trashyslashers


	2. First place / Part II

Despite it’s knack for replicating the real world almost-but-not-quite-perfectly, the Entity was absolutely terrible when it came to timing things right. As a result, it wasn’t uncommon in the slightest for deep conversations to be interrupted by the unavoidable call of a trial, something both Jamie and Dwight found this to be increasingly frustrating as their time together was becoming shorter and shorter.

The two, once engaged in a thrilling conversation about the very small gap in the time that separated their arrivals (though remembering the exact year was hard, the two came to the conclusion that Dwight had been nabbed by the Entity about 4 years before Jamie had), were pulled from their discussion by the familiar call of the campfire and the startling realization that this as actually their first trial _ together_. Going into a trial was already nerve wracking on its own, but the knowledge that they’d be in it together was, for whatever reason, even more stressful.

Dwight’s thoughts were running a million miles a minute; he found himself much more concerned, much more worked up with worries about Jamie’s safety, rather than his own. _ That _was certainly something; other Survivors would “poke fun” at him, as they put it (although Dwight felt they were being more honest than they let on), for always being more worried about his own well being than that of others. Sure, he was a team player and once he got his head on straight he could actually organize a team and get them to cooperate, but he had a habit of completely throwing everything out and being the first one to take off running the second danger reared its head. Dwight knew he was guilty of this, which was why he felt so strangely about focusing on someone else for once - but there was no time to ponder on the matter as before he knew it, him and the three others were whisked away to Ormond.

Ormond.

_ Ormond. _

_ The Legion - Frank! What if he’s here? This is where he’s from right?! Isn’t it?! _

Shoulder to shoulder with Steve, Dwight filled with dread as he slowly came to his senses and shivered from Ormond’s cold air - his formal shirt wasn’t thick enough to keep him warm in the slightest. Jamie, though, was snug in a hoodie as per usual, though his hands were quickly reddening from the freezing air as he began work on the generator the three of them started by. Meg wasn’t anywhere close by to them, and Dwight couldn’t help but count his lucky stars that it wasn’t _ him _starting separate from the gang as it, for whatever reason, always tended to be.

Jamie could tell something was bothering Dwight just by how the guy approached the generator, but the reluctance to hurt what little pride Dwight might’ve had outweighed his desire to ask what was wrong, so when Dwight threw a brief glance his way, Jamie opted to shoot a small, reassuring smile back - one which Dwight seemed to appreciate by giving his trademark awkward, sideways smile in return. 

✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣

The loud toll of the quarter bell rang out over the snowy landscape of Ormond, signaling that the trial was nearing it’s close and it’s collapse was inevitable. 

Dwight’s fear had been confirmed early, early on; Frank _ was _ indeed out there, and he absolutely did plan on tearing Dwight apart, but it was something he, thankfully, didn’t get to do yet as he ended up becoming too preoccupied with the others to get the chance.

Of course, it being the end of the trial and Frank’s frustration with not only Dwight’s presence but the fact that he’d only managed to sacrifice Steve, meant that the stakes were high and Frank was just absolutely _ itching _ to take his anger out on something. He’d managed to zone Dwight away from Meg and the newbie, and after some chase, Dwight was belly-down, the blood from the gash in his stomach making the once-white snow melt into a rusty puddle of red slush underneath him. 

It didn’t take a genius to realize what was going on; by the way he was going about things it was incredibly evident that Frank was, internally, practically _ begging _for the last two to leave so he could kill Dwight - his request for the Entity to allow him to kill one of them had been granted, and Frank absolutely was going to make the most of it while he could. It was something Jamie came to realize when he noticed he didn't hear Dwight's screams from getting hooked as he hung with Meg, who was currently winding a spool of gauze around his bloodied forearm, the two of them kneeling by the exit gate located by the observation tower that was at the north end of the Chalet. The two of them barely made it there in one piece - Frank had chased them right to the escape boundary that separated the trial from the campfire, only to turn right back around and head to wherever he’d left the battered Dwight. 

_ Dwight. Dwight’s still out there! _

“Meg - can, can you stay here? I need to go - I can’t just leave Dwight.” Jamie spoke through gritted teeth, the pressure from Meg pulling the gauze causing searing pain to shoot through his arm as it rubbed against the raw skin of his injury. 

“What - Are you _ serious _ ? No! We need to get out - Dwight’s dead,” She was surprised and completely dumbfounded by Jamie's idea. “There’s no use in going back. Neither of you would make it, he seems _ pissed. _” 

“No! You don’t _ know _that! I’m not leaving without him - you can either stay and help, since you’re in one piece, or you can leave - but either way, I’m going!” And with that, Jamie was off, dashing back into the map, in the direction he saw Frank go previously. 

Fuck all else mattered to Jamie at the moment; his pulse was pounding away in his ears as he ran, then sped walked when he heart a heartbeat, then ran towards where Dwight was. Dwight had taught him a thing or two about tricks to help you remember where your teammates were, and Jamie thanked his lucky stars that he was able to remember what Dwight had told him, even in the heat of the moment, and soon he came upon Dwight’s limp body in the snow, his groans and heavy breathing being the only thing he could hear apart from the crunching of the snow underneath his shoes. 

_"Dwight!” _ Jamie’s voice was a harsh whisper, his fear of altering Frank of his presence on par with his fear about Dwight bleeding to death. Dwight, though, seemed less concerned about either of those things as he yanked his head up from the ground, his cracked glasses hanging crooked on his face as he tried to focus on Jamie’s blurry figure.

“_J__ame- Jamie! Get out! Now!” _The way Dwight spoke as he tried to pull himself up from his crumpled spot on the ground was absolutely heart wrenching. _ “He’s gonna come back - get you too - go!” _His words were slurred as consciousness slipped further and further from him - but Jamie wasn’t about to let him die.

_ Not on my watch. _

With all the strength he could muster, Jamie pried Dwight up from the ground and didn’t hesitate to pull the slightly taller man’s body against his own. Dwight was sloppy on his feet; he could barely stand, no doubt that the combination of the blood loss and freezing temperatures had absolutely taken their toll on him. Awkwardly, Jamie undid and shrugged off his hoodie as best as he could, not caring that along with it came the gauze from Meg as he tried to keep Dwight’s arm slung around his shoulders so the guy didn’t topple over. Before Dwight could even open his mouth to protest, Jamie pulled his discarded hoodie as tightly around Dwight’s waist as he could to make an attempt at slowing the bleeding down as much as possible. Once the sweater was as snug around his waist as possible, the two of them began their quick hobble towards the exit gate. 

The movement seemed to wake Dwight up some; he became slightly more alert, much more strong as they walked, and Jamie took that as a sign that they could move quicker. The glow from the lights of the exit gate in the distance was such a welcome sight, and if it wasn’t for the sudden pounding heartbeat that began to fill his ears, Jamie would’ve whispered to Dwight that they were going to make it.

But Frank wasn’t about to let his prize escape so easily. 

Despite being a bit behind them, Frank’s sprint closed the distance in no time and before he could stop himself, Jamie was trying to break out into a sprint himself_, _but the weight of Dwight was too much.

_ Shit. _

Without thinking, Jamie pulled Dwight’s arm off of him, the relief he felt upon realizing Dwight could stand on his own was short lived as he realized how close behind Frank was to the two fleeing men. His hand found its way to the Dwight’s lower back, and with as much force as he could give without knocking the weak man over he gave a mighty shove, ushering Dwight ahead of him, further towards the opened gates.

Fortunately, Meg had apparently stayedas per Jamie's request, which he saw as the redhead came out from around the corner of the gate. Before she could ask what was happening, Jamie gave Dwight one more shove, sending him almost right into Meg, who grabbed him by his arm and pulled him in. 

“Wait, Jamie - !” 

“Dwight, _ GO!” _Jamie practically screamed, not even flinching as Frank grabbed a handful of the back of his shirt, yanking him backwards and onto the ground. _"G__et out!” _

And with a brief, reluctant glance over his shoulder, Dwight did just that, leaving Jamie alone with Frank. 

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Dwight was seething.

Dwight was terrified.

Dwight was _ confused_. 

He felt as good as new, back at the campfire. The gaping wound that was once in his stomach was now gone, but Jamie’s sweater was still wrapped around him, just as Jamie had tied it. It served as a grim reminder of what happened - and Dwight’s emotions were a nasty hodgepodge of some he couldn’t even name. 

_Why did he have to do that?! _

_ He didn’t have to! - I’m not worth that sort of thing! _

_ How badly is he going to get hurt? _

All questions, but not a single answer. The time between Dwight’s return to the campfire felt eons longer than Jamie’s return, and the second Dwight laid his eyes on him he was on his feet and marching right towards him, his face twisted in anger.

“Why would you do that?! You didn’t have you - you only got yourself killed! I would’ve been _ fine! _You didn’t have to do that - you didn’t - _ have to do that!” _Dwight stuttered as he could barely get his words out properly. He would've shoved Jamie to show just how upset he was, but he wouldn't put his hands on him like that. Too mean, too rude. He didn't want to lose Jamie because of an outburst like that.

He wasn’t ungrateful in the slightest, no; he was _ incredibly _ grateful, but more than anything he was confused and _ upset. _ Confused about _ why _ Jamie did what he did - and upset that... Jamie_ did what he did. _He got himself hurt just to help Dwight - just to help some nobody who's taken almost as many beatings as he had fingers.

Jamie’s nonchalant response caught Dwight more off guard than he expected it to, though.

“I couldn’t just _ leave _ you, could I?” He asked with a shrug. “I didn’t wanna just _leave_ you_, _so I… I didn’t. I couldn’t_.” _He found himself staring back at Dwight, whose eyes were filled with confusion and bewilderment. 

Before Dwight knew what he was doing, before he could stop himself, he was throwing his arms around Jamie. It was an awkward, stiff embrace - but Dwight couldn't even think of the words to use to thank Jamie who'd saved him from Frank's wrath.

_“You could have._” He spoke, his voice soft as he felt Jamie’s arms slowly close around him and return the embrace. “You could have.”

The lack of any other Survivors around provided ample opportunity for the boys to embrace in peace, and they soon found themselves in their usual spot next to the campfire, though Jamie sat next to Dwight instead of on the ground as per usual. The two of them chatted, cracking jokes that were so unfunny they actually were funny every now and then, and Dwight used that as an opportunity to really get a good look at Jamie. 

The two of them were much more similar - both behavior and appearance wise - than Dwight had even realized; relatively the same height, both wearing glasses and usually sticking to the same few articles of clothing for the sake of comfort. It was oddly charming, to Dwight. _ Cute_, almost - a thought he shook from his head the second he thought it.

_ No! Why would I think that? Here, especially! _

“Hey, Dwight?” 

The hesitance in Jamie’s voice worried Dwight. Multiple, unfortunate, conversations Dwight’s had all started out with those two words - _ “Hey, Dwight? We’re gonna have to let you go.”, “Hey, Dwight? You didn’t make the team. Better luck next time, now move out of the way.”, “Hey, Dwight?...” _

He almost didn’t want to hear whatever it was Jamie was about to say. 

“Before, awhile ago, you’d said something like… how could anyone forget me. Did.. did you actually _ mean it? _” Before he could answer, though, Jamie quickly corrected himself. “I mean, like… if we ever got out of here, y’know, would you forget me?” 

_Wait - that’s what he wants to know?_

Dwight looked up at him, _ actually _ looked up at him, and Jamie wished he could take a picture of the look on Dwight’s face. His glasses were crooked from looking down, and the confused, curious look on his dumb, stupid, handsome, cute face was one Jamie wished he’d be able to see forever. 

“I - No! Of course not. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to - _ not that I _ do _ want to! _I couldn’t just _ forget _ about.. you.” Dwight fixed his glasses before scratching at the back of his head awkwardly, his eyes refusing to meet Jamie’s as he looked off towards the fire. 

"Hah, are you _ sure _about that?” 

"_Of course! _I’m not a liar!” Dwight defended himself. He wouldn’t lie like that. “I mean, I really like you.”

“Wait - _ Really? _” 

“Yeah, I mean - you’re actually _ nice _ to me… nicer than the others, at least. You actually listen to me!” It took every ounce of will Dwight had to turn his head to look at Jamie, only to see that Jamie was already looking right at him. The campfire cast a warm glow across Jamie’s face; its flame a glint in his glasses and after Dwight took a deep breath, he realized how _ calm _ he felt. He didn’t feel scared, he didn’t feel anxious, he didn’t feel like he was being judged or laughed at - he felt safe, if he were being honest.

_ What would Jamie look like in my glasses? _

“I..” Jamie started, then paused to take a deep breath. Did he really _ want _to say it? To tell Dwight? A question he asked himself, but the look on Dwight’s face reassured him of his answer;

Yes. Yes, he did.

He took another, shorter breath, preparing himself.

“I really, really like you, Dwight. Like... a _lot_." Jamie's voice was barely above a whisper.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at Dwight after that, afraid to see what look crossed it. He was about to apologize, about to get up and leave - but Dwight shifting in his seat caught his attention.

“I really…. I really, really like you, too.” Dwight spoke, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper. "_A lot." _

“_Really?” _  
_  
_

_“ _ Well,_ yeah, hah, _I just said I did… Do I?- Yeah, yeah, I do.” 

A smile broke out on Jamie’s face, a look Dwight returned with his own dorky grin. It felt like nothing was real at the moment - nothing _was _real. There were no monsters around, no Killers lurking in the woods to stalk their victims, no laughing or scornful onlookers to make fun of their tender confessions. They were _safe_ together. They were _happy_ together, and now they were going to be _loved_ together.

Without any hesitation, the two men embraced once again, paying no mind to the return of the other Survivors.

Things were going to be alright.


	3. Second place / Part I & II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: “Angst with a happy ending? With David King, specifically, and a male reader if you could. Plot being that there seems to be a lot of friction between the two until it builds up and one of snaps and the other professes feelings, feelings are surprisingly returned.”
> 
> Written for @birbthethird, on Tumblr!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know how british slang works, brits please don't break my kneecaps

“Ya really didn’t have to fuckin’ do that, you know it, right?” David asked, though not really caring for any sort of answer the other man may offer. “Threw the whole fuckin’ trial, gave that Christmas-lookin’ sod the two of us when you could’ve just left.” He spat, his already thick accent becoming heavier with irritation. 

“Y’know, maybe you could just say _thanks_ _for trying_ for once - or would that be _too hard _for you?” 

It was a sight the other Survivors were becoming incredibly used to; the two men, David and Pierce, seemed to each have an incredible talent for knowing what buttons to push on the other. David tended to be incredibly confrontational and not even remotely hesitant to speak his mind, and while Pierce was more of a quiet guy, he was incredibly stubborn and headstrong. The two would clash _ very _ frequently, often getting into arguments with each other over matters that weren’t even that important. 

The most recent trial had gone absolutely _ terribly_ for the lot of them; Freddy was out with a vengeance, and Pierce had made the decision to stay back and try and rescue David instead of leaving - only for the two of the to return to the exit gate and realize that the Entity had _ blocked _ it. Freddy had a real knack for keeping Survivors trapped much longer than necessary, and the two of them had unfortunately fallen into the trap and wound up dead, much to David’s irritation. 

“It was a fuckin’ _ stupid _ thing to do, no reason I’d thank you for it.” David said. Despite being seated on the stump of a tree, the tension in his posture was still obvious and he looked as if he were about ready to jump up and throw hands with the shorter man, who seemed almost dumbfounded by David’s unappreciative attitude - was he _ really _ that angry at him for _ trying to save him? _

“David - I was trying to _ save you! _ How was I supposed to _ know _that was going to happen? - I didn’t want to just _ leave _ you behind!” Pierce’s voice rose the more he spoke. He’d never admit it, at least not to _ David _ of all people, but he struggled immensely with having to watch him and the others get hurt on such a repetitive basis. He’d always step in and try to help - leaving others behind tended to be an option that was far off the table, and most of the others were _ thankful _ for his attempts, but David seemed adamantly against Pierce even _ thinking _ about it, something Pierce was becoming frustrated with. Was he incapable of even being nice?

“Yeah, well, it ain’t your _ job _ to be lookin’ out for me or any of the others, is it.” David crossed his arms as he spoke, not even bothering to look up at Pierce. “Just worry about your own damn arse and we won’t be havin' any more problems.”

“So you want me to just leave everyone to die - not even bother with trying to help them when they’re being hooked, is that it?” 

“You know _ damn _ well that’s not what I’m gettin’ at - ”

“Really? Because it sure as hell seems like it!” 

And with that, David was out of his seat, practically chest-to-chest with the hardly intimidating bespectacled Pierce who stood about 3 inches shorter than he did. Pierce wasn’t even slightly intimidated by the pissy Brit and met him head on, and David opened his mouth to probably throw some sort of insult some way, but before he had a chance to say anything they were pulled apart.

David, in all his irritation, was about to turn around and give whoever grabbed the handful of his jacket a piece of his mind, but once he saw that it was Jane he refrained from doing so. Nancy was the one that stopped Pierce from having at David, and she led him away from the spot that he had previously been arguing at. Pierce could hear Jane telling David to sit down and take a breather, and the second he knew they were out of hearing range, he got fed up with keeping quiet.

“Dude, he’s such an ass! I can’t _ stand_ his attitude - he can’t even be at least _ grateful _ ! It’s -”  
  
“Hey, calm down for a second, would you?” Nancy’s gentle interjection was enough to get Pierce’s attention and stop him mid-rant. “I _ agree _ with you, I really do - but you gotta talk to David about this - _ without _ fighting. It’s just how David is, you know this - but c’mon, you guys are at each other’s throats constantly and you know it’s becoming a problem.”

“I think it just hurts David’s pride that someone’s trying to help him, or somethin’ like that. Isn’t he the one that usually does risky shit? Maybe he’s mad that there’s someone else not afraid to do it, too.” Pierce laughed, though a scornful one. He really wasn’t one to get angry and hold grudges, but since day one of being in the Fog and meeting David, _ something _ about him just drove him crazy. They’ve always been at each other’s throats since then, ready to take jabs at the other whenever they did something irritating enough, and it was something the other Survivors were getting fed up with.

“Whatever it is, can’t you guys just work it out? It’s not like we have much of a choice here. We’re all stuck here together, and you two constantly fighting isn’t helping things.” Blunt as always, was Nancy.

As much as Pierce hated to admit it, Nancy was right. The amount of friction between him and David was beginning to reach unhealthy levels and sooner or later, one of them was going to snap and end up saying (or _ doing _ something, though that was much more of a concern when it came to David) that they’d regret. 

“David might be a bit of an ass - a jerk, but in the end we’re all kinda stuck here together, yeah?” Nancy said. “The two of you could probably find some sort of way to work together, at least during trials, if not anything else.” 

Now _ that _ made Pierce stop in his tracks. 

Him and David - working _ together. _

Not constantly being at each other’s throats was one thing, but _ working together _ and actually being friendly with each other? That was something entirely different, something on an entirely new level. Something about that made Pierce stop walking. Something about that seemed like much less of a possibility than him and David going a day, or whatever measurement of time there was here, without fighting did. 

It seemed, it felt, utterly impossible. 

Knowing how him and David typically interacted with each other, it practically _ was _impossible. 

He didn’t even want to try.

He’d rather be damned, and David’s feelings regarding the situation were pretty mutual. 

He’d spent the last who-knows-how-long talking to Jane about the ongoing strife; Jane’s typical approach of lending a shoulder and only offering advice when asked for it seemed to do well for David as it let him get his feelings out without feeling like someone was trying to parent him, and eventually he was much more calm than he had been before. Most of his anger was gone at this point, but he was still restless with agitation over the exchange. He didn’t _ want _ to get so pissy with Pierce as much as he did, but they always tended to butt heads in one way or another over some of the most ridiculous manners, and David’s short temper didn’t help. 

At Jane’s suggestion, David found himself staying by her side while the two of them hung around the campfire. Ever since she showed up, something about her presence always seemed to get most Survivors to calm down and think things through whenever they were upset - a talent she accredited to her time spent hosting self-help talk shows and working with others - and even the more rowdy of the bunch appreciated her easy-going yet reliable and relatable nature. She had a knack for getting people to sit back and work their issues with each other out, something she’d suggested to David once he seemed like he’d be open to suggestions on what to do.

“I just can never understand it - somethin’ about him just gets me all fired up. It’s not that I even _ mean _ to give ‘im a hard time, it just happens.” David said with a sigh. “Forget it, though. It’s not like he didn’t throw a few at me, as well. I’m just not goin’ to bother myself with him anymore.” 

David would’ve seen the brief look of disappointment cross Jane’s face if he hadn’t had his eyes fixed on the campfire in front of them. His head was absolutely throbbing; though the Entity would take care of most ailments, it wasn’t impossible for a Survivor to feel ill or achy outside of trials, especially if it was something they commonly dealt without outside of the Fog. His previous trial had gone absolutely terribly; aside from Pierce’s attempt at getting him out, it had been rough from the start as Freddy had done everything in his power to keep the trial moving as slowly as possible and it had dragged on for what felt like _ hours. _By the time the trial was drawing to a close, he was already well irritated, and with the mess that happened at the end he’d been left with nothing but an aching head and irritation. 

No rest for the weary, though, as by the time David began to even feel a smidge of relaxation, it was time for another trial. 

✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣

“You’ve gotta be pullin’ my fuckin’ leg,” David said to himself, awfully narked. “Him again? Christ.” He didn’t even want to _ approach _ the generator that was nestled between the logs and bulrushes once he saw that Pierce was already working on it. He couldn’t get a break, could he? He wasn’t one to hold grudges surprisingly, and his anger over the previous argument had died down considerably, but he didn’t want to risk blowing up and arguing with Pierce during a trial, of all places - that wouldn’t help anyone, for any matter. 

Briefly, he considered heading in another direction, but the echoes of the Nurse’s shrieks quickly pushed that thought right out of his head and with a frustrated huff, David trudged towards the generator. They would, even if it seemed next to impossible, inevitably have to work together to some degree if they wanted to even have the possibility of making it out while against the Nurse - and Pierce would need to be 100% on board with it. 

_Surely _they could set aside their problems for one trial, yeah? It wouldn’t kill them, at least anymore than the trials did, so there was no hurt in trying. 

Pierce only briefly glanced at David as the Brit took his place next to him to work on the generator, and he could almost cut the tension in the air between them with a knife. The angle of the generator against the upturned log only allowed for two to work on it at once, and Ace and Feng had since run off together to find another one to work at, subsequently leaving the two brooding men together. David had surpassed Pierce’s expectations by _ not _ making some sort of snarky comment or throwing some insult his way, and it led Pierce to wondering if he should perhaps take Nancy’s advice and suggest somehow working with David, at least during _ this _trial, and seeing how that went. 

...But just remembering how David practically launched himself off the tree stump to have a go at him earlier was enough of a prompt to keep his mouth shut for the time being. If he ran into him down the road at some point, then sure, maybe - but until then, he’d just sit tight and not risk agitating David anymore. 

Then again, it wouldn't hurt to test the waters a little, would it? See if David had calmed down a bit, or if he was still peeved over what happened. 

“David,” Pierce spoke, his voice in a sort-of whisper. He let go of the generator for a second to reach into the pocket of his jeans to pull out the skeleton key he’d stashed in there. “Take this, I’ve got no use for it.” 

_Please, please take it. _

Though David seemed hesitant to even acknowledge the fact that Pierce was speaking to him, after a moment he took his attention from the sputtering generator to reach over and snag the key from Pierce’s hand, stuffing it into the pocket of his jacket with a short nod the other man’s way, though not making eye contact.

It certainly was a start. 

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Much to everyone’s surprise, the trail actually went fairly well - or as well as a trial could go. Though the Nurse often was one of the toughest Killers for the Survivors to deal with, they’d get occasional lucky breaks and if they _ really _ pushed, they’d all make it out fine - as long as they were able to cooperate with each other. 

Cooperation and teamwork were pretty much dire in the Fog, and that was something both David and Pierce came to accept. Despite the fact that they really didn’t have much desire to be buddies with each other, it was a great pleasure for the other Survivors to realize that the two men weren’t at each other’s throats as much as they used to be. Though they weren’t having friendly chats or sticking their necks out for each other at every possible opportunity, arguments between the two were becoming rare, and the two seemed almost comfortable with each other - to a limit. 

It was partially due to the fact that since the one with the Nurse, they hadn’t had a trial together in a hot minute so there never really was an opportunity for one of them to really piss off the other, and they, as well as the others, hoped it would stay that way for as long as possible. Despite not being in each other’s physical company for much time at all, that didn’t mean they didn’t have passing _ thoughts _about the other though, and it was something David was becoming incredibly frustrated with.

No matter how much David attempted to distract himself or remind himself of how often Pierce may have gotten on his nerves in the past, his thoughts always wandered back to him in some form or another. In fact - the more he tried _ not _ to think about him, the more he did! It wasn’t even anything special - remembering their past arguments, wondering if he was in a trial, wondering how often he tried to help others like he had David awhile ago, and the like. All things David really couldn’t be bothered with, but still thought about, much to his annoyance.

It, quite frankly, was nothing but annoying, in David’s opinion. It frustrated him to no end; Pierce would probably find the situation pretty fucking comical if he’d found out - something he hoped would never actually happen - and David couldn’t even fathom why the guy was on his mind so much. He didn’t even _ like _ the bloke, for Christ’s sake! Not that he _ hated _him or anything, at least he didn’t _ think _ that he hated him, but he just always found himself feeling irritated and restless whenever he had to spend more than two minutes in his presence. Something about him just got him worked up, and it irritated him so. 

David hated his strange fixation on Pierce, much like Pierce hated how angry he got whenever he heard someone even mention David. 

There was one Survivor - one of the younger ones, a taller female who despite her height looked as if she were barely old enough to attend college - who had an undeniable crush on the guy. Though she’d beg and plead those around her to not tell him about it, it didn’t stop her from talking to and about him whenever she had the chance. Most of the Survivors thought it was pretty adorable, and those that didn’t had better things to worry about, but for some unknown, God forsaken reason, it really grinded Pierce’s gears.

“David was talking about one of those bar fights he’d gotten into back in Manchester - have you noticed how he gets really excited whenever he talks about them?” 

“Wait, David - what was that story about the time you and your buddies got kicked out of a pub and then got into a fight in an alley, on the way to _ another _ bar?”  
  
“I think David had a rough trial - he snapped at Jake earlier about something small - do you think he’ll be alright?” 

Every time his name left her mouth, Pierce had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. 

_David this, David that - why is he all she wants to talk about? _

He chalked it up to the fact that crushing on someone was probably one of the least lethal forms of entertainment around here, and he’d probably behave in a somewhat similar way if he had one on someone as well. It was a thought that almost made him laugh, actually - he hadn’t even _ thought _ about that sort of thing since showing up here. He knew some Survivors had pseudo-relationships with each other; Laurie and Quentin seemed fairly comfy with each other, as did Ash and Jane on rare occasions (they’d make jokes about their feelings towards each other, jokes no one ever took that seriously, but on occasion the way they’d look at or speak to each other suggested that their jokes may be a little more serious than anyone would’ve thought) - so it wasn’t like it was a totally forbidden thing in the Nightmare - it just wasn’t very common. Or smart.

Briefly, he wondered how David felt about her incessant talking about him; he didn’t seem all that annoyed or bothered by her or her repetitive questions (in fact he seemed more than happy to go on and on with tales and anecdotes about bar fights and his life back in Manchester, stories he’d tell with his chest puffed out and a grin on his face), and Pierce figured he may even _ like _ the fact the she was practically all over him verbally.

...A thought that bothered him _ more _ than her infatuation with the Brit did. 

Maybe just _ everything _ about David, directly related or not, made him angry. 

✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣

“Christ - watch out, would you?!” 

Pierce about tripped as David’s hand landed on his back, roughly shoving him out of the way as he came barreling up to the door to the shack, the Hillbilly limping after him.

David had been giving the Hillbilly quite the run around since the beginning of the trial, buying Pierce and the rest enough time to get two generators done uninterrupted, and Pierce had taken the brief time in between generators to dig through the chest in the hut to see if it had anything of use. The sudden arrival of the two caught Pierce off guard as he was leaving the shack, and before he could even respond he almost tripped forward as David’s hand landed roughly on his back, shoving him out of the way and back _ into _the building as the Hillbilly’s cattle hammer came swinging down, barely missing the back of David’s head as he dashed forward just far enough to avoid getting injured anymore than he already was. 

Nothing could’ve prepared Pierce for the sight that was unfolding in front of him; David, absolutely dead set on keeping the Hillbilly from getting to either of them, threw down the pallet that was leaning against the doorframe, subsequently stunning the Hillbilly and in the short time it took for the grotesque man to recover, David and Pierce were long out the window and running.

...As if running meant anything when it came to the Hillbilly, who soon caught up to them in absolutely no time. 

The next few moments were a muddled blur from Pierce’s perspective. He remembered wishing the Hillbilly’s chainsaw wasn’t so loud. He remembered David shouting at him to get going, to get away - and then the way David screamed when the Hillbilly’s disgusting saw made contact with his back, the wet sputtering it made as it tore through the flesh of his back. He remembered ducking behind one of the many decrepit old walls that were scattered around the outside of the temple - God knows the temple had a ton of them - and waiting for David to be picked up, hoping the Hillbilly wasn't aware that Pierce was still nearby and hiding.

While David fought against the grip of the Hillbilly (how the Hillbilly’s gangly arms were strong enough to easily keep hold of a man the strength and stature of David never ceased to amaze Pierce in the few times he’d witnessed a trial with the two of them), Pierce took the time to creep in the general direction of where the Hillbilly was dragging him to. The other two Survivors were far on the other end of the map, evident by the recent resounding of a distant generator being powered, and Pierce figured that he’d need to be the one to help David considering the other two wouldn’t be able to make it in time. 

The hook pierced David’s back, but his scream was muffled by the revving of the Hillbilly’s chainsaw as he left the hook and headed towards where the recently completed generator was. Pierce assumed he found one of the others considering how quickly his saw let up and took that as a sign the coast was clear enough at the moment for him to rescue David, an action David seemed grateful for as he sighed with relief as soon as he was back on the ground. 

“Hey, c’mon, this way - we’ll be fine over here, I can patch that up quickly-”

“Aye, forget it - we need to finish up - don’t even bother with it.” David cut him off, adjusting his jacket as best as he could so it didn’t irritate the gaping wound in his back. “We need t’split up, now.” 

“What? No! Strength in numbers, dude. There’s only 3 generators left - we should stay together.” 

_Together. Work together, at least for now. Please. We can go back to hating each other later. _

“I’m heading to the one inside - you stay out here, go over there, go wherever - I don’t _ care _ where, but I’m goin’ somewhere else.” David’s voice was tinged with irritation and before Pierce could even respond, he was running off in the direction of the stone temple. Briefly, Pierce considered chasing after him, but ultimately decided against it since the last thing that needed to happen was an argument between the two of them. 

By the time he got to another generator, Bill was already about a quarter of the way through it, and within no time it sputtered to life and the two took off towards the flickering lights of another generator. The distant sounds of the Hillbilly’s chainsaw echoed across the grounds, and - Pierce froze in his spot. 

David said he was going to do the generator in the basement of the temple, but Pierce hadn’t heard it power - and it sounded like the Hillbilly’s chainsaw was coming from that direction. He hadn’t heard any screaming or any sort of commotion, but something about the situation had Pierce worrying for David’s wellbeing. He wasn’t dead on hook, no, but with the Hillbilly’s disgusting ability to get from one side of the map to the other with ridiculous speed, he might as _ well _ be, especially if the basement was in there - a thought Pierce really didn’t want to think about. 

“Bill”, Pierce said as he took a spot on the ground next to the aged vet as they started on a new generator. “David went over that way -” He gestured vaguely with a nod of his head in the direction of the temple. “ - to the generator in the temple and he hasn’t come back, and I haven’t heard it even start yet. D'you know if Nea’s over there?” 

A look of confusion crossed Bill’s face, though he didn’t look up from the generator. 

“The one in the _ temple _ ? I don’t know what you’ve been up to, but Nea and I took care of that one already.” Bill said, pretty confused. _ He seriously didn’t hear it go off earlier? _

Of course he hadn’t - his own generator had been so far away from it, and that combined with trying to focus on the sounds of the deafening chainsaw in the distance to make sure it didn’t come any closer to him, led to him not even realizing that it was done.

“_But _ ,” Bill began, before Pierce could say anything about the situation, and he knew better than to interrupt the guy. “David’s a grown man, and Nea’s around somewhere, so he’ll be fine, alright. Besides - don’t you both have it out for each other? You two seem miffed at each other more than anything, don’t concern yourself with him if he really gets on your nerves _ that _ much.”

Pierce laughed at that, though it was more of a short scoff than anything.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.” 

✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣

Three left. 

Nea was dead - no one got to her in time to save her from the spines of the Entity, and the exit gates were one lever-pull away from being opened. Either David did something in a previous trial that really pissed him off, or the Hillbilly had some sort of undying grudge against the Brit, because he seemed to be making it his absolute _ mission _ to make sure the guy didn’t get out alive. Bill was God knows where - David was currently stuck running - or rather limping - loops around one of the pillars as he barely missed the stone of the Hillbilly’s hammer time and time again.

Mind made up long ago, Pierce wasn’t about to leave David behind. He didn’t _ care _ if he got himself killed in the process, no - but he felt he owed it to David, as much as the guy got on his nerves. Considering the fact that David pretty much pushed Pierce out of harm’s way early on and gave the others enough time to work on the majority of the generators. 

In his hand, Pierce clutched a firecracker - something he’d gotten, then left, then retrieved from the chest he’d dug through earlier, and the second he saw David hit the ground he made his move, his hands ripping the casing of the firecracker off as he dashed towards David, who could barely muster the strength to shout at him to go on, to get out, and that he’d make sure he "_r__eally_ fuckin' regret it if he got both of them killed again". The Hillbilly paid absolutely no mind to this; he was quite content since he’d finally gotten David down again, and the second he began to hoist David off of the ground Pierce made his move and threw down the firecrackers, their detonation emitting a blinding light and a boom of deafeningly loud _ pops _ and _ cracks, _ their loud noises being something that the Hillbilly _ hated, _evident by how he dropped David’s body along with his hammer so he could cover his ears with a groan. 

“David - GO! COME ON!” Pierce grabbed David’s sleeve and practically yanked him along the ground before he managed to stand up, running alongside Pierce as they dashed for a gate.

The gate.

_ The gate! _

_ It’s not even opened yet, shit! _

The three red lights on the switch box glowed almost tauntingly, and Pierce found himself jumping behind David so he could block any hits from the Hillbilly - though with the precision that the Hillbilly had when it came to his saw, Pierce figured it would be less of a block and more of a total self-sacrifice. The lights all being on indicated that the gate was literally one second away from being opened - but one second was all it took for the Hillbilly to catch up, assuming nothing was in his path. 

With a bloodied hand, David practically tore the lever off of the switchbox as he pulled it down and the loud clanging and scraping of the doors of the exit gate being pulled open announced their freedom. Now, it was Pierce’s turn to shove David as they barreled through the brick pillars of the exit gate, the Hillbilly catching up with them the second they made it through. 

“Bill’s still back there -” David said, before he broke out into a fit of bloodied coughs as him and Pierce dashed towards the barrier separating the hunting grounds from the campfire. “We can’t - we won’t be able to get him - I’m sure he knows where the trapdoor is - he’s got to! Dammit,” David’s voice was filled with regret as he practically shouted over the sound of the Hillbilly’s saw, which almost knocked David back into the map before he managed to leap out of bounds. Pierce knew, though, that Bill would make it - he had to. The Hillbilly was far too focused with both of them, and even then, Bill was notorious for being the one that got left behind - something he said he was _very_ used to, something he said he didn’t hold against the others if they left when there was no other choice. 

With a dizzying jerk forward, the two men found themselves sprinting through the woods and coming upon the campfire almost immediately, where the gang of lingering Survivors barely even glanced up at them, unsurprised as it wasn’t like it was entirely uncommon for someone to come fleeing back so quickly. Though he couldn’t see him, the sound of David’s footsteps suddenly changing from dragging, hurried limps to regular running told Pierce the guy was practically back to full health - though he’d almost definitely need to rest some after that whole charade with the Hillbilly. 

Before Pierce could even sit down and catch his breath, he found himself shoved to the ground, his glasses knocked off his face as he attempted to scramble back to his feet, something that proved useless as he was shoved down again.

“Are you fuckin’ DAFT?” David practically yelled at him. “You really gonna try an’ pull that shit again?! If you can’t be arsed to listen t’me, I might as well not bother with helpin’ you anymore.” He spat. “I told you to go on and get, yet you just stayed around and could’a gotten us both killed - _ again!_” 

“Are you actually incapable of saying thank you?! Is being _ nice _ something that you can’t even comprehend?! Dude - I wanted to _ help! _ I owed it to you for helping _ me _ earlier, why can’t you see that?!” Back on his feet, Pierce was animated with his words; marching right up to David and looking him in the eye as he spoke. His hands, which were previously trying to fix his glasses as they were back on his face, were now hanging at his sides, his fists clenched as he tried to resist the urge to shove David back. 

“I already went and told you - I don’t need your damn help! I got it on my own - I always have! I don’t need some lit’le sod steppin’ in!” David said, and he seemed more than happy to straighten up and loom over Pierce - though it did little, intimidation wise. 

“Yeah it sure _ looked _ like you had it all on your own when you were on the ground like that, sure. Hah.” Pierce snorted. David’s attitude was absolutely maddening, and Pierce wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he noticed that the other Survivors had all moved somewhere else - where to he wasn’t entirely sure, but it was obvious they didn’t want to hang around for the fight that was unfolding in front of them. 

Before Pierce could stop himself, he brought his hands up to David’s chest and gave him a mighty shove. Of course, though, David was well used to that sort of thing and barely stumbled from it, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing Pierce’s wrist in a vice-like grip and pulling the shorter guy towards himself so he could glare right into his eyes.

“Don’t _ fuckin’ _ put your damned hands on me! You’ve got no _ clue _ who you’re pissin’ off here, mate.” David’s tone had changed from one of irritation to one of pure anger. He’d been fine with handling his anger with the _ verbal _ portion of the argument, but it seemed like physical confrontation was on a whole ‘nother level with David, a level Pierce had just kicked the door down into. 

“Oh, I'm pretty sure I have a damn good idea of who I’m _ pissin’ off _ \- trust me, _ mate. _” Pierce spat back, mocking David’s accent and way of speaking. He was well fed up with David attempting to intimidate him, and it was time the guy knew. 

“You’re really gonna find yourself regrettin’ prattin’ around and gettin’ in the way of other people and their business.” David punctuated his words with a harsh shove, letting go of Pierce's wrist and knocking him back some. “Ya aren’t nearly as hard as you may think you are, and -”

“_David _ \- I’m not trying to be hard,” Pierce interrupted him, something he assumed would only piss David off more, but didn’t care about at the moment. “You’re just always - always _ risking your ass for others__!_ It wouldn’t be fair to let that go unnoticed - I wanted to make sure you got the same damn thing in return! That’s all! I’m not trying to act _ hard_, I’m not trying to _ prat around_, or whatever, and I’m NOT trying to piss you off! Christ, why can’t you get that?” 

“I’m sure as shit not _ owed _ shit in return - I make the choice to risk my own arse - and it sure as hell ain’t up to _ you _ to keep me safe.” David’s tone was much less angry, though it was still obvious he was pretty miffed about the situation. “It ain’t your job to be gettin’ hurt for me.” 

“David -”

“Dammit, _ quit sayin’ my name all soft! _ You said it yourself, didn’t ya?! I’m un_grateful_, yeah? Christ! - I don’t understand you. If I’m so damn _ ungrateful _ and you hate me so damn much,then you sure better not be botherin’ with me!” 

“When did I ever say that I _ hated _ you?! I’ve never said that! If someone’s hating the other, here, it’s _you _ who hates _ me! _That’s why you -”

“Now you’re just makin’ shit up - I never said I hated you -”  
  
“You sure as hell act like it!” 

“Would you just shut it for a second and let me finish?! I _ don’t _ hate you, I don’t even _ dislike _ you - Christ! It’s just too damn hard to deal with...” David's voice trailed off, and he refused to look up at Pierce as he spoke - something Pierce was thankful for as David would’ve seen the expression of complete dumbfoundedness on his face.

“_What’s _ too hard to deal with, David? Being _ nice? _That’s something you’d hear a thirteen year old say about -”

“Christ, you’re fuckin’ dense - _ I’ve got a thing for you_, alright?! It’s been drivin’ me up a wall for the last _ whatever_, and seein’ you risk your arse for me isn’t helpin’.” Though David's voice was hurried, it was quiet and almost solemn as he spoke. “This ain’t the place for any sort of relationship, and I had the idea that shovin’ you away and treatin' ya poorly would get my feelin’s to quit but I was an idiot for thinkin’ so.” 

“You - _ what.” _Pierce was completely dumbfounded by David’s confession and barely had a decent response.

_David has a _ what _ for me? Seriously? _

Of course, Pierce’s lack of response except for his curt expression of disbelief left David regretting his admittance of feelings, and a grimace was settled on his face as he stared into the fire that was to the right of the two standing men. He _ was _a fool for thinking he could get rid of his feelings, indeed - and the fact that he even confessed them left him feeling shattered as there was no damned way Pierce would ever return the feelings, especially not after how David treated him. It killed him to see the guy risk his safety for him, it really did - and he figured if Pierce thought he were ungrateful, he’d knock his antics off and David could forget about it. Forget about him.

Forgetting was not something that would be happening anytime soon though, as David was pulled from his thoughts by Pierce's approaching footsteps. 

“David -” 

_There he goes again, sayin’ my damn name all soft._

“What if that _ thing _ was returned?”

"That shit ain't funny," David straightened up, completely prepared to argue some more. "You listen here - you best not be makin' fun of me for -"

"I'm serious, David." Pierce closed the gap between them, trying to keep as calm as possible. "I've got no reason to make fun of you for that - since it's true, especially." 

It was David's turn to look completely dumbfounded. His eyes were locked onto Pierce's, though his expression was pretty unreadable as the two engaged in a staring contest. The thought of the sharing feelings for each other was almost unfathomable; the fact that through all of the arguing, through all of the insults, the anger, and the borderline _bullying_, they were able to settle down and come to the realization that they were both into each other made absolutely no sense to either of them, though they weren't going to argue with it. 

David had been trying to protect both himself and Pierce considering relationships probably weren't the smartest thing to be had, and it was completely misinterpreted by everyone as David just being an asshole.

"You're straight up barmy, you know it, right?" David asked, his tone one of relief, coupled with disbelief. "Completely mad." 

Pierce absolutely couldn't resist saying what he was about to, and the way David raised his eyebrow and smirked after hearing it only made Pierce all the more happy he said it.

"Yeah - only for _you_, though." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi on tumblr @trashyslashers


	4. 3rd place / Headcanons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some general headcanons with Dwight and Quentin, written specifically for Glaciel, or @eeveelinktions on Tumblr, with the information about themselves they gave me!

**Dwight Fairfield: **

  1. For starters, may I say that you and Dwight would be absolutely adorable together? The two of you have enough similarities that you can easily bond with each other, but enough differences between the both of you that it keeps things interesting.
  2. Dwight first realized he felt something beyond basic platonic feelings for you when he _actually_ got to see you be yourself. Sure, he’d found your more quiet, reserved nature pretty darn cute (and charming considering he _also_ is pretty quiet and reserved when around those he doesn’t know) - but once he learned that the reason you were much more eccentric and goofy when around him was because you felt you knew him enough to be comfortable around him, he about _died _from happiness - internally, of course. 
  3. Dwight comes to adore this about you, and in a way he wishes he were more like you - the way you can so easily _not_ care what others think about you, especially when you’re with your friends, is honestly pretty damn admirable to Dwight considering he always feels as if he’s being judged by others. 
  4. Also, can I just say Dwight would think of you as the cutest damn thing on the planet? He’s not super tall for a guy - I see him standing at about 5’10, when he’s _not_ slouched over. 
  5. He loves that you two have similar mannerisms; the way you both have a habit of putting your index and middle fingers to your chin (though he’s got a terrible habit of biting his nails, which is why he does it). Whenever he’s missing you, he’ll touch his fingers to his chin and hope that you happen to be doing the same thing, wherever you are, so it’s like a little act that connects the two of you. 
  6. Coffee drinking is a terrible habit he ended up developing awhile back, and he’s _always_ trying to get you to drink some, even after your insistence that you _really_ dislike it. He’s the kind of person people would jokingly ask “Want a little bit of coffee with your cream and sugar?” because he dumps unnecessary amounts of both into it, to the point that it doesn’t even taste like coffee anymore. 
  7. Loves how you wave “hello!”, and often times he’ll shyly wave at you from a distance just so you wave in response. 
  8. He’s so, so, _so_ shy about physical affection - especially around others. You can feel him tense up every time you wrap your arms around him, or every time you hug onto his arm, or hold his hand - but don’t let that fool you! He absolutely adores it. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and that’s evident by the bright pink blush on his face that appears every time you snuggle up to him.
  9. Though he’s usually pretty shy about affection, he has his moments where he’d feel like he was going to _die_ if he didn’t get any attention from you - and these moments, unfortunately, tend to happen whenever you’re busy. As a result, you two spend a ton of time with his arms wrapped around your shorter-self as best as they can be while you work on whatever it is your attention is on.
  10. You know those memes that are like “This is the ideal male body. You may not like it, but this is what peak performance looks like.”? Yeah, that’s _not _Dwight. He’s definitely got one of those bodies that’s pretty untoned, not very strong, with some chub around the belly - and you said that a little bit of chub is cute to hold onto, right?! Either way, Dwight will try harder to be more active, especially if it’s because _you_ like to be active - he wants to be able to keep up with you! 
  11. You like nice, soft, dorky people? You’ve got three of Dwight’s traits down! Just… minus his awkward, geekiness. He really is a sweetheart, though; he’s just awfully shy about getting close with people since most of his life was spent getting picked on.
  12. Oh thank _god_ you’re into cheesy jokes, puns, and pick-up lines because so is he and they are his go-to for any sort of joke or pick-up line. Some might make no sense or might have a really complicated explanation, but you two often spend time sharing jokes with each other and seeing who can tell the best - or worst.
  13. Dwight literally cannot, in the slightest, fathom why you _like_ horror. He gets that everyone has their own interests, sure - but _horror, of all things?! _Show him Silent Hill and he’ll either refuse to stay in the room, or he’ll sit at your side, all tensed up as he _insists he’s fine! _But he’s obviously not having a good time. 
  14. He’s more than happy to stay indoors with you when it’s rainy. He’d love, love, _love _to just stay inside, get some pizza, and spend time with you watching dumb movies, playing games, whatever it is you wanna do. He’s not super into video games, but if you preferred to spend the day playing some, he’ll definitely sit by and watch (he might not last if it’s a horror game, though).
  15. Dwight would lose his marbles completely if you gave him a gift - especially if it was something you made yourself. He’s never received many gifts, so he absolutely cherishes anything you give him - even if it was just a cool looking rock you found outside on a walk.
  16. You can freak Dwight out by hiding somewhere and pretending to make cat noises. Dwight actually really likes cats, but if he knows none are around and he’s hearing one when he SHOULDN'T be, he’s going to rip the place apart looking for it. 

**Quentin Smith: **

  1. You mentioned in a message that you sometimes refer to Quentin as “Quinny”, and while on the surface he probably won’t acknowledge it, deep down he actually really likes it. 
  2. Regardless of where you two are together (the Fog or reality), Quentin’s personality differs pretty greatly from your own! He’s not an eccentric person by any means, and outsiders may often wonder how you two are together seeing as how you both act quite differently. Opposites attract, though, and it’s evident your relationship.
  3. Quentin would realize he had strong feelings for you, branching out beyond platonic, once he learns that while on the outside you’re a pretty happy, bubbly, kind person - you’ve actually been through and dealt with some serious shit. The ability to maintain a kind personality despite going through some terribly _un_kind circumstances is incredibly admirable to him, since a lot of people tend to let unfortunate circumstances harden them.
  4. With that said… Quentin understands how your personality varies depending on where you are and who you’re around. He loves that you feel comfortable enough around him to act as goofy as you do, but he also understands that at times you’re going to be much more quiet and reserved. 
  5. He’ll always be there to remind you to eat, if you need him to! He’s a very attentive partner; he’ll always try to check in on you and make sure you’ve eaten, that you aren’t in pain, that your day's going alright, and so on. 
  6. Sort of on that note, he’s not good at cooking in the slightest, but if you two taking the time to cook together would help remind you, he’d be all for it. He’ll also definitely get you milkshakes and ice cream when he’s out and about, since you like those!
  7. Quentin’s ridiculously understanding, so don’t ever worry about him judging you in anyway about your rambling or struggle to keep your voice down when you get excited. 
  8. He’s worried to _death_ about your conversion disorder. He’s always checking in on you; if you seem upset, panicked, in pain, whatever - he’s right by your side, staying with you until you feel better. Once you explain to him what happens and what to do in certain situations, he absolutely will do it whenever the situation arises. 
  9. Can’t help but chuckle at the swearing habit you have whenever you’re around him and/or friends. The stark contrast between how in certain situations you’re quiet, reserved, and how you always remember your manners but then the second you’re alone with friends you do a complete 180 is pretty funny to him.
  10. Quentin’s more than content with you being physically affectionate and clingy, but just know it can be super easy for him to get overwhelmed at times and he may not always reciprocate 100%. Regardless, he’d never say no to you stroking his hair or holding his hand. It comforts him, most of the time! 
  11. More than happy to just do dumb stuff with you. Wanna go to a craft store and try some stuff out? Sure! He’s not the most creative person and isn’t super artsy, but he’ll try. Wanna watch a TV show series all the way through? He’s more than happy to do so, just don’t get upset if he dozes off!
  12. _Loves_ to see you smile, since he knows it’s kinda rare for you to do. Your face lights up in such a warm way and he absolutely adores it. 
  13. When this guy is finally able to get some sleep, unless he’s anxious or worried, he sleeps _deeply_, so feel free to stare at him as much as you’d like ‘cause he’ll never even know it. 
  14. The fact that you know a decent amount about health and psychology interests him, a bit. He knows an alright amount about that sort of stuff, especially after having to deal with Freddy, so every now and then he’ll ask for your thoughts, opinions, advice, etc, on certain, related things. 
  15. Yeah, fuck going outside. He’s more than content with staying indoors with you on those rainy, gloomy days. 
  16. Dude is _so _patient and easy going. You’ll never feel judged, rushed, picked on, etc by him. He’s really great to go to if you need a break and someone to talk to, and he’ll always be there for you. Even if you guys argue, which would be rare with him, he’d never hold it against you and would always be there for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some say hi on tumblr @trashyslashers


End file.
